


The World Is Moving (to the Song I Hear)

by fluffernutter8



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffernutter8/pseuds/fluffernutter8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>But now that I've found you/Together we'll make history</i> Jesse's not totally wrong about the inevitability thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Is Moving (to the Song I Hear)

Jesse and Beca don’t start going out right away. She feels bad about it because she knows that in all the movies they would already be halfway to the altar already, but she can’t quite bring herself to do it. Instead they just hook up a lot and hang out basically every moment they’re not in class or at rehearsal, but he is very laid back about the whole thing.

“You’re too high-maintenance anyway. I’m still stabbing in the dark to figure out what movies you’re going to like.”

That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get embarrassingly eager when she tells him over Skype during spring break of their sophomore year that she’s thinking about taking him out when they get back to school.

“Trial basis only,” she says firmly, picking a little at her cuticles. “See what twenty years of moviecation have taught you about being a boyfriend.”

It turns out a lot. Being Jesse’s girlfriend is basically what they were already doing, except that he takes an inordinate amount of pleasure in slinging a casual arm around her shoulders and introducing her as his girlfriend, and seems to feel that he has license to do cheesy things like serenade her outside of class (or in class right before lecture, or by staring at her during performances, or standing up next to their table when they go out to eat, even if it’s at Burger King) and cover her windowsill with flowers ( _I thought about the desk, but I didn’t want to encroach on the sacred space of the mixing equipment_ reads his note, and she sits on her bed, driven down by the force of that sweetness). She develops a look meant to stem any such gestures, though it rarely works.

She likes the ones where he brings her random juice pouches and dessert, though.

He comes back to campus early, two weeks before the start of junior year, and even though she misses the Bellas and can’t wait until they’re back, it might be the best time of her life. They have basically the run of the campus, so they make out wherever they want and use the projectors in the biggest lecture hall to screen Star Wars (“I’m not sure my body has ever made you as happy as you are right now,” Beca comments, rolling her eyes at the way he’s absolutely riveted. He doesn’t confirm or deny, but he does pull her close and give her a long kiss without pausing the movie, even though it’s the part where Chewy, Han, Luke and Leia are escaping from the garbage masher). They venture out to activities and events they don’t normally have time for between the radio station, rehearsals and performances and actually trying to get an education.

They’re in line for a giant roller coaster at Six Flags three days before the start of school. Beca is teasing him about having just eaten the biggest size of roasted nuts, saying that she’s pretending she doesn’t know him when he inevitably throws them back up.

She’s laughing up at him and then, “I love you.” Jesse doesn’t look over until after he’s said it. His tone light, he adds, “It’s okay if you freak out or if you run away, it’s not going to change. You don’t even have to say it back. I’m gonna be right here. Although probably throwing up on a stranger instead.”

She does want to run, wants to be angry at him for forcing her into something (even though he’s not), for pressuring her, for predicting her reaction and taking away the solace that leaving would bring. So she takes a deep breath. “You’re my best friend,” she tells him.

As she says it, she realizes that she was afraid of disappointing him, afraid that despite his words he was expecting something of her that she couldn’t give him. Jesse has always been incredibly patient with her, even when she was in the worst mood, even when she said horrible things to him, when she was busy (occasional) and unromantic (frequent). But she’s not used to endless affection. Her childhood had it, but then when she was a teenager it stopped. Now she’s used to mothers who ignore you except when they need rides to therapy or to pick up more pills. She knows fathers who promise to take you away from that but end up too busy with their post-divorce girlfriends to bother. So she’s sure that eventually she’ll do something or fail to do something, and it’ll be the tipping point.

But that doesn’t seem to have come today. He smiles and takes her hand, squeezes. “Duh. But that means that if you’re any good at best friend-ing you will the one holding my barf bag as I reintroduce my nuts to the world.”

And just like that she can’t stop laughing.

* * *

Beca feels that she must have done something bad in another life. She and Jesse have just moved into a new apartment, able to afford the nicer place because finally the years of internships that consisted of a lot of coffee fetching and very little musical experience, the part-time restaurant work, the 12-4 AM radio slot and three horrible days scoring (read: adding horrible sound effects and cheesy music) porn, they’ve each finally gotten jobs that they like and pay a living wage.

Which makes the positive pregnancy test even more horrible.

“You were supposed to control birth happening,” she hisses at the case containing her pills, and then proceeds to flush each remaining one down the toilet.

She’s so consumed in the task that she doesn’t hear Jesse calling her, doesn’t hear him enter the bathroom to check on her until he’s right behind her. He picks up the test and makes some small sound and that’s what makes her turn.

“That has my pee on it,” she blurts.

“Uh huh,” he responds vaguely, clearly dazed. She can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. He slides down to sit on the edge of the tub. He’s holding the test in the tips of the fingers of both hands now; clearly her warning hadn’t sunk in or he doesn’t care. She’s not sure what to do with the version of Jesse who, despite being a giant nerd who should have been bullied out of his self-esteem years ago, is not confident in himself and his worth and his choices. He clears his throat after a minute. “Um…what did you want to do?”

“Roe v. Wade it, obviously,” she snaps. “What else is there to do?”

“We could, you know, have it,” he starts, nullifying the way he tamps down his eagerness by being obvious about the repression. “We have a little money. It wouldn’t be horrible. People do it every day.” But he sees her face and, swallowing, backtracks quickly. “Obviously it would have to be your choice. You would be the one doing all the work, so…”

Voice quiet, she says, “I’m going to set up an appointment as soon as possible.”

He’s horribly pale but ridiculously calm, and she wishes that she wasn’t doing this, but it’s the only way. “Do you want me to come?” 

“No.” Her legs have splayed awkwardly beside her and the lip of the bath isn’t particularly comfortable, but they each stay there for long moments, staring about before slowly coming back to themselves.

She makes an appointment for late the next week, but there’s a cancellation, so she takes the afternoon off of work and goes to the clinic on a Tuesday. It’s a nice place, open to the street and with a bright sign. There’s one protestor, a girl texting as she leans on her sign instead of holding it up.

Beca pauses next to her. “Did your mom make you come?”

“Yeah.” The girl looks up. Beca is sure that she’s going to add _That bitch_ at the end, but she looks apologetic instead. “I- She means really well. But do what you have to do.”

“Uh…thanks, I guess.”

She goes in and tells the receptionist her name. She brought music to listen to, so she ignores the magazines and leans against the wall with her headphones. Another one of the women waiting there smiles and Beca wonders how they would start a conversation. _So, you come here often?_ She tries to remember what will happen when they call her name. She’ll have to watch a video and then they’ll-

She very suddenly decides that this isn’t what she has to do. She gets up and tells the receptionist that she’s leaving because it’s only polite. She was a secretary for about five minutes when she came to LA and the amount of shit they put up with on a daily basis was not to be believed.

She passes the teenaged protester on her way out (“Good luck or whatever!”) and sits in her car staring straight ahead for about five minutes before she calls Jesse. She is halfway hoping that the call would roll over to voicemail, but he picks up right away.

“Bec?”

“I Juno’d,” she blurts, resting her forehead on the steering wheel.

“What do you need?” And then because Jesse’s words sometimes work faster than his brain, he continues quickly, “Come home. I’m leaving now. Come home and we’ll talk.”

She tries to collect herself. Vaguely, she wonders if she fed the meter enough. “Give me an hour.” It’s odd, because Jesse is right now the only person she wants to talk to, and yet she can’t stand the idea of actually facing him.

He waits the entire hour, basically down to the minute. She is coming out of the bath as he comes up the stairs two at a time. He stands there in the hall just past the front door and they look at each other.

“Do you want to go back? Do you want to try it again?” he asks, and love inflates inside of her because he finds the idea so clearly upsetting, but for her he still asks. 

“I think I kind of burned that bridge. They probably have my picture there with _appointment breaker_ in big letters.” She tightens the belt on her robe and looks at him nervously. 

“And anyway, I was thinking that you’d be a good dad, and maybe you could teach me how to be a good mom.”

The set of his shoulders means _thank God_ , but all he says is, “You don’t need me to teach you.” 

* * *

They decide to tell Jesse’s parents first, when they go there for Christmas in a few weeks. They’ve always been a little iffy about Beca. They like her well enough and they think that she makes Jesse happy, but Jesse is about as much weird as they can take. Since the first time she met them, she couldn’t help but feel like they had always hoped that Jesse would settle down with a nice normal girl (or even a nice normal boy, just something they could share over dinner with their friends instead of whispering confusedly about to themselves). They were willing to support their son because he was their son and because they knew from when he was a little boy what movies and music meant to him (although they would not have been heartbroken if he had decided mid-career to become a lawyer instead), but they had no reason to support Beca’s life. They were always nice to her, but she always felt just slightly judged rather than comfortable in their home. For once she wanted to be more than the girl who wouldn’t marry their son, who just took advantage of his good nature, who encouraged his work rather than sitting him down and forcing him to grow up. She wanted to come to them and say, “I’m carrying your grandchild and you’re the first to know.”

But Jesse apparently can’t quite stick to a plan because a little package arrives the first Thursday of December. It’s stamped URGENT, covered in little notes in Chloe’s bubbly handwriting ( _Handle with care_ and _Baby present on board!_ ) and Beca knows who spilled.

The box contains a CD which Beca holds up with a raised eyebrow, a look which causes Jesse to blush and turn away and stammer excuses. There is also a note from Chloe saying that although it’s a little early for a present, she just couldn’t resist, and that she absolutely knows that Beca will call her as soon as possible to talk about it all.

Any hopes that Chloe has kept this news to herself are shattered when she receives a text from Benji: _Not sure that it’s sanctioned, but I contributed some baby-themed songs to something Chloe called a ‘push mix.’_ And then a few minutes later: _Jesse’s in trouble, isn’t he?_

Jesse’s parents are still happy when they are told on Christmas Day. His older sister, Abby, gives an uncharacteristic squeal and his brother, Gabe, punches them each lightly in the arm, assuring them joyously that they have absolutely no idea what they’ve gotten into. Even Hannah, still in high school and obviously fed up with the whole affair of being the youngest, manages to put down her phone to give Jesse and Beca a hug.

They go for brunch at Beca’s dad’s house on New Year’s Day, and he knocks over his chair getting up to hug her. She’s glad that she told him in person rather than by email like she did her mom. Their relationship has gotten better since college. They talk pretty regularly, and Beca has mostly forgiven him for abandoning her with her mom. She’s accepted that he’s flawed like she is and that he regrets what he did. She doesn’t think she’ll ever understand it, though. She can’t imagine Jesse leaving their kid with her if she ever got to a place like her mom was.

She’s a little scared of that all through the pregnancy. The doctor keeps telling her that everything is so perfect that she could track everything by her old med school textbooks, and Jesse is incredibly excited and over-helpful, insisting on rubbing her feet frequently and playing Chloe’s CD for the baby every night, but she’s more worried about the part where the baby is actually born. There’s a place she goes sometimes, more rarely over the years, but a place where feels like nothing is real, that if she just ceased existing everything would be easier. The first time she realizes that she might actually be okay at this mom thing is when she realizes how hard she fights it, how much she doesn’t want to feel that way, doesn’t want to let the baby know that she ever feels that way. Still, sometimes she grasps Jesse’s hand tightly, anchoring herself, and wonders if her mom thought the same thing.

It’s a long labor, so long that she’s sent home for most of the first day because she’s dilating so slowly. She manages a little sleep, but wakes Jesse up to drive them through the drizzle at three AM. She has to walk the ward a little before they have a bed ready for her, but Jesse makes fast friends with the nurses and she suspects that they’re moved up in the line a few places because of it. By the time she manages to finish her last circuit of the hall and drag herself to the clean little space, Jesse has started to set up the stuff from her bag. He’s holding the push mix, explaining the whole thing to the nurse as he sets up the player.

“Well isn’t that-” Beca begins to glare from the doorway, just imagining that sentence ending with ‘adorable’ or ‘the sweetest,’ but Jesse shakes his head at the nurse very subtly and she changes her tone with admirable swiftness. “Perfect timing. Let’s get you up on the bed and we’ll check how far along you are.”

Pretty far along is apparently the answer, because things progress pretty quickly after that. Jesse seems to have prepared himself by watching movie birth scenes because he assures her that it’s okay if she curses his manhood or breaks his fingers, but she gets through it by breathing heavily and cursing from between gritted teeth the whole time. She does end up asking for the mix, though. The baby slides out as Benji calmly sings “Sweet Child O Mine,” and Beca doesn’t recognize her own voice when the doctor says “It’s a boy!” and she says “Really?”

“Confirmed from here,” Jesse adds as he eagerly goes around to say hello to the whimpering infant, but he too sounds surprised. Unspoken, they had both for some reason expected that their story would end with a baby girl.

They had argued for months over girls’ names, Ava and Jocelyn and Molly and Zoe warring in the drafts and drafts of lists they created before finally deciding on Sofia Claire. Boys’ names had been brought up only once, when Beca had asked and Jesse had suggested John Williams.

“Family names,” he claimed, absolutely straight-faced, before going back to the merits of the name Louise.

It all would have been easier if they had known the gender of the baby in advance, but Beca had refused. “The only reason people would need to know is so they can buy things in pink or blue, and only dicks need to have boy colors and girl colors,” she claimed, and that ended it, although Jesse tended to be more politic and tell people that they wanted it to be a surprise. Apparently they had a lot of dicks for friends, though, because they ended up with a lot of gender-neutral books and toys, and what few clothes and linens they did get came mostly in greens and yellows and adorable patterns on white backgrounds. The only exception was the huge array of sleepers and onesies in various shades of purple that Amy sent over with a card that read _I expect to be repaid in godmotherhood._ Still, seeing the way that the baby’s room filled up, Beca couldn’t help but feel loved.

Now all those loved ones were clamoring for a name and Beca doesn’t have one. Jesse has picked a middle name (James, after Dean, Bond, Kirk, Bridges, Flood, Horner, Cameron, Brooks, Hannigan, Cagney, and Newton Howard) and she had almost gives in and just uses that as his first name, but then she imagines people calling him Jim, gags, and sends Jesse home to shower while she settles in with the hospital’s name book.

She opens it to a random page and sticks her finger in. Sampson, the entry reads, and she wrinkles her nose and tries again. This time it is earlier in the alphabet. She has pointed to Nizar, which she wasn’t a fan of, but right below it was Noah. _Hebrew. Rest, Peace._

“What do you think?” she asks, reaching over to the crib to stroke the hand of her vacantly sleeping baby. “You might need some peace to put up with people who forgot that you might be a boy.” 

* * *

It’s a long-held custom of Jesse’s to do “marriage checks” at random points. The first time he came into her studio and asked “Are you okay with lasagna for dinner, and would you like to get married?” they were a year out of college and she had panicked. But he’s very calm about the whole thing. It’s never a proposal or an ultimatum, just an opportunity to gauge her current feelings about marriage. She knows that he has had a ring for a long time, but he tells her that she never has to worry about him getting fed up and leaving.

“I’m totally happy where I am,” he says, that clear mix of confidence and earnestness in his voice, and because it’s Jesse she tries to believe him.

The few months after Noah is born, there’s really no time to think about much else apart from the baby. She has maternity leave for a few weeks, but then she switches to pumping and goes back to work a few days a week. She and Jesse are lucky that they only actually have to be in the office part time, so they make a schedule and split the time at home. He is rarely left with a babysitter, really only when they both have unavoidable meetings, and when she hears the stories from the mothers at the baby music class Jesse signed him up for, she knows how fortunate the whole arrangement is.

That’s not to say that it isn’t difficult. Noah is fussy when he’s awake, though thankfully for most of the early months, he sleeps for most of the day, so at least they can get work done. He’s quite active at night, though, and the first time Beca thinks to herself that maybe she wouldn’t mind actually being married to Jesse is when she watches him pour his cereal into his coffee mug and realizes that, as impossible as it seems from her own level of exhaustion, he’s been taking on so much with Noah that he’s as tired as she is. 

Those thoughts continue over the next few months, when he brings her tea and aspirin before a headache has actually managed to form, when he invites Chloe over for the day or takes Noah out so she can have uninterrupted time to herself, when she wakes up in the night to find him cradling Noah and singing “Carry On My Wayward Son” softly into the baby’s light hair.

And then one afternoon when Noah is six months old, she comes home feeling good to find Jesse sitting on the front step, child on his lap.

“My two favorite boys!” she says, picking up her son and giving him a kiss. “Just waiting for me to come home from the salt mines.”

“Your phone was off,” Jesse comments from behind her.

She unlocks the door, humming a little with Noah balanced against her chest. “Yeah, I was out sitting down with that new group. I’ve finally got meeting etiquette locked in.”

“Bec,” he starts gently, and she turns, panicking in slow motion, suddenly replaying his pale face and dull voice. She confirms Noah’s weight in her arms, her first instinct. “Sheila tried calling you. Your dad…they think he might have had a stroke.”

She makes a noise, a cut off letter sound, before managing stupidly, “But he bikes every day.”

“I know,” and he puts his arms around her, being careful to keep Noah supported. And suddenly she realizes that she never wants to deal with bad news with anyone else.

The stroke was fairly minor and detected early, so her dad is recovering, but the certainty of marrying Jesse doesn’t leave her. For months she tries to think of good proposal ideas, paying special attention to romantic scenes when Jesse pushes forward in trying to turn her into a movie buff rather than just a casual viewer. The Bella suggestions rain in, from Amy’s direct “Take him out for dinner, then go into the bathroom and change into a silky nightie, come back out, grab his tie and tell him that it’s time to man up and marry your sexy ass” to Chloe’s detailed plans involving hot air balloons, celebrity cameos and lengthy, romantic speeches that Beca can’t even read all the way through (“…when I picture my future, you’re the only person I can imagine in my life, in my home, in my heart…”). Finally she gives up and just does it. It’s a Saturday, and they’re taking Noah out for a walk. She takes a deep breath and pulls the ring box from where it’s been since they moved into the new apartment (in the toe of a pair of dress shoes that he never wears).

Jesse is humming to himself, pouring Cheerios into a bag and slipping a few to Noah, secure in the carrier around his father’s chest. Beca comes up behind him.

“Jess,” she starts quietly, but loudly enough that he turns. He sees the ring box right away and stares at it for a moment, and then at her face. He’s absolutely silent, holding a few leftover pieces of cereal in his fingers. Noah squirms, makes a high-pitched sound to summon them to his mouth, and Jesse obeys, still staring. “You had me at ‘Hey, I know you.’”

“Are you sure?” he responds, a little hoarsely. “You’re not just saying that because you feel like it’s time or that you should or that I’ll leave if you don’t?”

That’s part of it, the feeling that it’s not fair to him when it’s what he wants and when he compromises on everything for her, but just a tiny fraction of the whole reason. She gestures with the box, a little helplessly. She feels like he would know the right things to say. “You’re the only person who never wants to change me, but still makes me want to be better.”

He smiles that joyous, easy grin of his then, and she can’t help but smile back. “A thousand times yes,” he declares softly.

* * *

It’s a very good thing that Beca has decided to be casual about the whole marriage thing because things begin spinning very quickly out of control. What was supposed to be a simple trip to the courthouse followed by a dinner for close friends and family very quickly balloons into a full on event. If she were feeling petty, she could trace this rapid elaborate growth to when they started discussing things with Jesse’s parents, but if she starts getting petty about these things, she’ll never stop.

They decided right off to have their wedding in Atlanta because although Dr. Mitchell has returned to teaching a one classes a week, Sheila, with whom Beca now regularly speaks, is not sure that he is really up to traveling. So they book a flight to bring the wedding to him during the first week of June, a month after Noah turns one. When they go to invite Jesse’s family, though, things begin to go awry.

“Honey, don’t you want a little more of a to-do?” his mom asks Beca. She always seems to be doing ten homemaker-y things at once when they Skype, baking cakes and mopping the floor and making some of the jewelry that she sells in a local crafts fair. Beca herself has taken to displaying unnecessary work implements in the background behind her computer in the hopes that her future mother-in-law will assume that some very important musical business is ongoing. “Mike and I would be happy to help out to perk up that party.” And because Beca doesn’t want to make waves, she says yes.

By the end of May, when the small party has turned into four hundred people in a tented outdoor space that Jesse’s parents rented, and the courthouse has turned into an early VIP gathering (although Jesse stepped in and prevented it from becoming an equally large church service, overriding his mother’s protestations that it would be rude to invite people to the reception but not the ceremony) Beca wishes that she had put her foot down in the beginning. She clings to her disinterest in the details of the ceremony to save her sanity. “I just want to be filing a joint tax return at the end of all of this,” she repeats over and over to Jesse, and he smiles fondly, seeming relieved that she isn’t upset about the invasion of their plans, and calls her his little romantic.

She keeps saying it as their plane is delayed, as they spend the flight learning what it’s like to be that irritating couple with the constantly whining baby, and as their luggage doesn’t turn up in Atlanta with them. Thankfully it, including all of their wedding outfits, arrives by the next morning, in time for the three of them to dress hastily and make to their mid-afternoon appointment with the judge. Beca’s mother declined her invitation, but her father and Sheila show up, along with Jesse’s parents and siblings (Hannah brings her boyfriend, although Mrs. Swanson decrees that he will not appear in the pictures) and their closest friends from the Bellas and Trebles. A few of their LA friends and colleagues were even able to make the trip because, as the two of them had found out when they announced their engagement, there had been enough investment in the Beca/Jesse marriage game since they moved to California that they didn’t mind the destination wedding.

It’s probably an amazing night- Beca certainly seems to be having a good time in the pictures- but she really remembers the evening only in flashes: Jesse raising a quiet fist behind the judge where no one could see as they say ‘I do’; Sheila letting her dad stay on the dance floor far past the agreed upon four dances; Gabe’s daughter Allison trying to support Noah enough to dance with him; a special wedding a capella performance (probably arranged logistically by Chloe and musically by Cynthia Rose) including “Going to the Chapel,” “Single Ladies,” and “This Will Be,” “Crazy in Love” and “At Last”; getting up herself to perform “Don’t You Forget About Me” and feeling like Jesse is the only person in the room.

Jesse’s brother Gabe and his wife offered to take Noah for the night, but the baby is dozing by the time the last guests get ready to leave, so Beca picks him up and they take him back to their hotel. He is drowsy as they maneuver him into pajamas, and deeply asleep as they transfer him into his portable crib.

They’re probably supposed to consummate the marriage, and Amy will definitely be asking tomorrow at brunch, but they’re both as exhausted as Noah, and it’s not like it’s the first time, so they both just get into bed.

Jesse rolls over. “Hey,” and just by his tone, Beca can tell he’s going to say something cheeky. “Want to get to work on that tax return now?”

“It’s June, nerd,” Beca responds fondly, and kisses him until they both fall asleep. 

* * *

Beca checks and rechecks the envelope with the Barden stamp, sure that it must be misaddressed because there’s no way that it can be their tenth college reunion. 

“You didn’t put me into a Delorean while I was sleeping, did you?” she calls down the hall to Jesse.

“While I appreciate the reference, it just turns out that our best years are behind us,” he yells back. “It’s okay, I’ll still love you when you’re elderly.”

There’s no reason for them to go, because they see who they want to see on a regular basis, but it will be summer anyway and Noah hasn’t seen his grandparents or cousins in a while, so they make the pilgrimage.

The place looks basically the same, apart from a slight weathering that makes the place look distinguished (Jesse draws comparison to Beca’s father, something Dr. Mitchell appreciates). Thankfully, unless there have been drastic internal changes, the food has been brought in from somewhere rather than made by dining services. It’s Beca’s turn to go for food for the group and she’s deciding between getting extra mushroom puffs or extra potato ones when a girl shows up in front of her and says a wide-eyed, “Hi.”

“Hi?” Beca responds, looking for signs that this girl belongs to someone she knows, although from her best guess she is far too old to be one of the children of the reunion guests.

“I’m Faith. I’m thinking about coming here.” Over her shoulder and across the quad, Beca can spot a tour group winding away, presumably one member short now. “And I knew that you were a graduate but total surprise coincidence that you would be here when I am. I’m a huge East Berlin fan.”

A few years before, Beca had done some guest vocals for one of the bands she had been working with. Unlike most of the groups on the small label, this one had a song featured in a commercial and suddenly they were big. Although she had never toured with them, hardcore fans sometimes recognized her. She never quite knew how to respond when they did.

“Thanks,” she tries now. “Do you want me to sign anything…?”

Faith sighs. “No, I just wanted to ask you a question. My mom is super into this whole college thing, but I just want to be a costume designer. Can’t I just learn on the job and skip the whole best years of your life thing? Isn’t it bullshit anyway?”

Beca looks around, toward where Benji is showing Cynthia Rose’s wife, Nathalie, pictures of his two-year-old twins while Jesse co-narrates as if he is part of the family. She glances to where Cynthia Rose is chatting with Lilly and Amy (who by the gestures she’s making is trying to decide whether or not to upgrade her latest British boy toy to boyfriend) while she keeps an eye on Noah as he tries to figure out what games he can play with her four-year-old daughter Annika. She remembers that on her phone is an email from Chloe about a newspaper article that referred to her as “a real-life Elle Woods” (“not totally accurate, but !!!!!!”) and a text from Aubrey reminding her of the Bella tradition of taking pictures with their competition trophies every time any of them are on campus. “You probably could learn just by doing, and maybe things will go really well for you like that, but this place is incredibly unbullshit.” She gestures weakly around at the buildings, at the dorm where she coexisted with Kimmy Jin and the theater where she performed and the radio office where she and Jesse flirted and stacked CDs and became best friends. She leans over toward this girl, this eager young Faith. “Don’t tell my dad, but this place might have been the best advice he ever gave.”

Jesse wanders over, smiling casually and endearingly at Faith who ignores him and thanks Beca before rejoining her tour. Jesse examines the buffet, helping himself to a few of his own puffs (mushroom). “Are you being a secret Barden ninja over here or is it just me?”

“Shut up.” She elbows him and due to their long association, doesn’t even need to apologize. She takes a small bite of a little hot dog and looks up at him. “Hey, Jess?”

“Yep?”

“Endings are nice, but I’m pretty partial to the middle stuff too.”

He laughs and a little puff pastry comes out. She rolls her eyes at him. “This is the part where I get to call you can awesome nerd.”

“Yeah? Well,” she waves a hand around. “When I came here, I threw away my shame.” She smiles at Amy as her friend shouts for her to come help her decide whether to keep tapping that or let Luke become something more permanent. “I’m Team Awesome Nerd forever.”

“Well good, because I’m the captain of Team Awesome Nerd.”

“Co-captain, on a good day.”

“Damn, I must have a lot of good days.” He slings an arm around her shoulders. “Now let’s go get our kid before he decides that Annika is more of a plaything than a playmate.”

“Mmm.” She sets off across the lawn with him. “By the way, my dad gave me the key to the big science lab. And I brought Star Wars.”

“You really do love me,” he says with a vaguely awestruck tone.

“Yeah. Even though you’re a nerd.”

“You love the nerd thing.”

“Lucky you,” she responds, hugging close to his side, but what she’s really thinking is a rueful _Lucky me_.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Matisyahu's "Time of Your Song" and summary from Foreigner's "Feels Like the First Time" (Jesse's solo from the riff off; yeah, I'm a nerd).


End file.
